


Lucy Lestrade is Absolutely Her Father's Daughter

by MusicalFangirl00193



Series: Hamish Watson-Holmes (Also known as my Sherlock/Kingsman/James Bond/Inception Crossover) [18]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: And sometimes they pick up the right things, Gen, Inspired by a tumblr post I found on Pintrest, Little pitchers have big ears, M/M, The one with Lucy from Narnia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 07:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12338247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalFangirl00193/pseuds/MusicalFangirl00193
Summary: Gregory Lestrade has been in love with Mycroft Holmes for years, but he’s never told the other man. Maybe they both just need a little push.





	Lucy Lestrade is Absolutely Her Father's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> Post found [here.](https://liliemsharpe.tumblr.com/post/143023712720/so-cuuuute)

There was a girl in NSY. Normally this wouldn’t cause Mycroft any pause, but this girl was only about 10 years old, sitting in Detective Inspector Lestrade’s chair, drawing on a piece of paper.

“Who are you?” Mycroft asked, sharper than he usually would have been. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m Lucy,” the girl replied, “Lucy Lestrade, I’m waiting for my daddy so we can go home.” She looked up at Mycroft. “Who are you?”

“I’m nobody,” Mycroft said, turning to leave, apparently he had misread Gregory’s feelings for him if the other man hadn’t told him about his daughter.

“I don’t think you’re nobody,” Lucy said. “If you’re looking for my daddy.” She looked at him for another moment. “Are you Mr. Holmes?”

“I am,” Mycroft answered.

“Sherlock or Mycroft?” she asked. “Because Daddy says I’m not allowed to talk to Sherlock while he’s not around.”

“That’s very smart,” Mycroft said with a smile. “I’m not Sherlock.”

“Then you’re Mycroft!” Lucy said excitedly. “My daddy’s told me all about you. He says you’re the most beautiful man in the world.”

Mycroft blushed, unable to keep the reaction at bay. “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, waving away the words.

“I did,” Greg said from the door. “I meant a lot by it.”

“Gregory,” Mycroft said, turning to face the man who had just entered the room. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I was right behind you,” Greg said quietly, “When you came in.”

“You’ve been here the whole time?”

“I have,” Greg agreed.

“And heard everything?”

“Yes.”

“Did you really say that?”

“Every day,” Greg said, “You just weren’t ready to hear it.”

“You believe that?”

“Hey,” Greg stepped forward, tilting Mycroft’s chin up. “You are the most beautiful man in the world. In all of creation, Mycroft Holmes.”

“But Sherlock…”

“Sherlock is an idiot,” Greg said, cutting Mycroft off. “You know he is. So now, do you want to come to dinner with us Mr. Holmes?”

“Yeah!” Lucy said excitedly, running over to Greg and Mycroft. “Please Mr. Holmes?”

Mycroft smiled, hesitating a second, but putting a hand on Lucy’s head, causing her to look up at him, a bright grin splitting her face. “I would love to come to dinner with you.”

Lucy’s smile seemed impossibly brighter, and she wrapped her arms around Mycroft in a hug. “Thank you Mr. Holmes!” she said excitedly.

“Of course Lucy,” Mycroft said, looking at Greg. “Anything for you.”

* * *

One Year Later

“What do you think Poppa?” Lucy asked, spinning in a circle to show off her dress.

“You look beautiful Lucy,” Mycroft said, pulling her in and adjusting her hair, the flower crown that she had made from the flowers in her basket pinned into a braid that ran around the crown of her head. “Are you ready?”

“Yes Poppa,” she said, grabbing her basket. “Are you?”

Mycroft looked at the mirror, adjusting his suit. “I am,” he said, turning to Lucy and taking her hand. “Let’s go meet your Daddy.”

Lucy smiled and held onto Mycroft’s hand, heading out of the room. Lucy led Mycroft through the house, Mycroft’s parents’, the one he had grown up in, out to the back garden.

Greg was waiting under an archway set up in the back garden, standing alone except for the officiant, looking towards the house, waiting for Mycroft and Lucy.

When he saw them, his daughter and future husband, Greg’s face lit up, just as bright as Lucy’s had the first time Mycroft had agreed to go to dinner with them. Mycroft smiled back, and the music started, Sherlock playing the bridal march on his violin.

“Hi,” Greg said quietly when Mycroft and Lucy reached him.

“Hi,” Mycroft replied, just as softly as the officiant began the ceremony.

By the end of the day, they were Gregory and Mycroft Lestrade-Holmes. They were a family. And all because a little girl repeated exactly what her daddy had told her.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd, not British, and I don't own Sherlock


End file.
